


I Don't Want To Die

by kojimori



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allydia - Freeform, Angst, F/F, Huntress - Freeform, Teen Wolf, banshee - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 17:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4885654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kojimori/pseuds/kojimori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have no one. No one to tell me not to go. Not one soul here to give me a reason to live. I am alone. Usually, I'd think it wasn't so bad, being alone. I'd prefer it that way usually. However right now, I need someone here. Having a girlfriend on the other side of the world is pointless; it's a relationship full of false hopes, void of physical contact, and requires me to rely on words to comfort or please.<br/>I want to die.<br/>I want to die.<br/>I want to die.<br/>Or do I?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Want To Die

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So I first posted this on wattpad a while back but I think it's ao3 worthy I guess sO HERE HAVE AN ANGSTY ALLYDIA FIC BECAUSE FEELS :D  
> I cried whilst writing this so if ye don't want feels I suggest not reading this sorry not sorry;3

I have no one. No one to tell me not to go. Not one soul here to give me a reason to live. I am alone. Usually, I'd think it wasn't so bad, being alone. I'd prefer it that way usually. However right now, I need someone here. Having a girlfriend on the other side of the world is pointless; it's a relationship full of false hopes, void of physical contact, and requires me to rely on words to comfort or please. I'm not good with words. I'm not good at saying what others want to hear or read. I'm not great at much except for listening. I like listening. Whether it be music or someone else complaining; I like listening. But right now I have nothing to listen to other than the heart beating in my chest and the wind howling in my ears, and to be honest, I'd rather hear empty silence right now.

I'd like to say I don't need anyone to save me. I'd like to say I'm strong. I'd like to say I can save myself. But if I did then I'd be lying. I'm sick of lying. Whether it be lying in bed at night unable to sleep or lying to my father about being okay; I'm sick of lying. I just wish I had the courage to end it all. To put a stop to the lies, upset and misery.

They say suicide ends the chances of life getting better, but what if life is already better? What if you have everything you could ever want, yet you still want to leave? I have a roof over my head, a dad, friends and a girlfriend. What more could I want? Well, that's simple. I want someone to care. I want to be told that it's okay to be me. I want to be told that it's okay to feel this way. I want to be told I'm wanted. I'm sick of feeling so guilty. Whether it be guilty because I did something wrong or guilty because I'm alive; I'm sick of feeling guilty.

I just hope I can do it. I just hope I can find the courage to kick the chair. I just hope I can find the courage to rid myself of breath. I just hope I can find the courage to swallow the pills. But I can't. I don't understand. It's like my mind just can't come to a conclusion.

I want to die.

I want to die.

I don't want to die.

I have no reason to live so why can't I just kill myself? I don't understand it. Whether it be I don't understand my mind or I don't understand myself; I don't understand it.

Help me.

I want to die.

I want to die.

I don't want to die.

It repeats like clock work, constantly swirling around my mind in a repetitive spiral spinning faster and faster.

I want to die.

I want to die.

I don't want to die.

I want to die.

I want to die.

Die.

I check the time on my phone, checking Skype as I do so. It's been five years since I left Beacon Hills for England, and checking my phone for messages has become a habit ever since. However, she hasn't messaged me in three days since she asked for my address. Probably just wanted to send a letter to me, seeing as I did want printed copies of our prom photos. But that doesn't matter anymore. I've decided.

I walk back inside and crawl upstairs, legs failing me as I attempt to walk the first few steps.

Die. I pull the cord off of my bathrobe before sliding down the spiraled steps.

Die. I feel sick, not that it matters. I'm going to be dead within the hour anyway.

Die. I make my way to the living room, looking for places to tie a noose.

Die. I grab a chair from the dining room and drag it through to the living room, standing on it and tying a noose on the curtain rail.

Die. I wrap the loop of the noose around my neck, hesitating for a moment as another strained sob escapes from my mouth.

Die.

I'm going to die. This is it. Everything from here onward is completely unknown. I'm going to die. I'm going to kill myself. I'm going to-

A huge scream tears through the air, startling me as I wobble on the chair. I brush my hair out of my face, confused and startled.

"ALLISON!" I recognize the voice immediately, and panic. Why is she here?

"Lydia?" My voice comes out strained; distorted due to the constant tears. I hear multiple doors slam as she checks every room, obviously deaf to my tiny whimper. The sun is blinding, seeping in through the thin curtains as the wind slams against the windows. It's freezing. I wobble a little on the chair, startled yet again as a frightened Lydia scrambles into the room, door slamming behind her. She dumps her huge shoulder bag that could fit an elephant inside it on the floor and cautiously shuffles a tiny bit closer. She looks up at me wide eyed, tears smearing her makeup and her shoulders tense from across the room.

"Allison? Wh-"

"Lydia, you're really here." A sense of happiness floods me. I forgot how it feels to be in Lydia's presence. It makes me feel at peace.

"Alli-"

"Lydia, thank god you're here. I love" Before I know it, I'm stepping forward, arms wide, leaping to hug her. Completely forgetting about the noose around my neck. "you-"

I land on the floor with a thump, surprised at the lack of noise as I collapse in a heap. I hear yet another blood curdling scream. I pick myself, dusting myself off to find that there is nothing there. No arms; no legs; no feet. Just a faint outline of my body. I glance upward, and it all hits me.

I am dead.

I am dead, and I can see my dead body hanging from a curtain rail in a bay window.

I am dead, and I can see a distraught Lydia Martin hugging my empty carcass with tears streaming down her face.

I am dead, and I can see the tiny red box slip out of Lydia Martin's pocket and the tiny ring peeping out of it.

I am dead, and so is my future, my life, my girlfriend.

My fiance.

I haven't just killed myself, _I've killed her too_.

I don't want to die.

I don't want to be dead.

 

 

_Suicide is not the answer._


End file.
